Soothsayer: Magic Is All Around Us (Soothsayer Series Book 1) (6 page)

“Not a word,” a husky male voice breathed into my ear. It wasn’t Robert. The voice was much too raspy and cold.

“What do you…” I started, near panicked. I felt every shred of happiness that had been wrapped around me all day vanish into the darkness of the night.

“I said not a word,” he growled, pulling my head back by my hair with one hand and pressing a sharp object across my throat with the other hand. My heart started pounding and I tried not to shake with fear. He bent me over the trunk of the car and grabbed both of my hands, tying them behind my back. The rope cut into my wrists and made me yelp in pain.

I turned my head to look at my assailant but at the slightest movement he grabbed my head and slammed it back down against the trunk. Everything went blurry. I felt my pulse in my head. I wasn’t sure if it was sweat or blood that ran from my temple to my cheek until a drop of red splashed onto the trunk. I saw my blood glisten crimson in the moon’s thin light and started to panic as my survival instincts kicked in.
Just do what he tells you and it’ll be okay
,
I said over and over again in my head.

“Move again and I’ll slit your throat!” he snarled behind me. “Now come here.” He wrenched me off the trunk and pressed me into his body with my back held tight against his chest.

He put a black hood over my head and everything went dark. I could feel the knife at my abdomen this time, the blade squeezing my side until it ripped through my shirt. I took shallow breaths in an effort to keep the knife from pushing further into me. The feel of the cool steel against my stomach sent a shiver down my spine and brought the taste of bile to the back of my throat.

Keep it together
,
I chanted in my head. I swallowed hard, trying to regain some control over my body. His other hand wrapped itself into my hair, keeping a tight grip on my skull. The pain brought tears to my eyes and panic welled up inside of my throat like I’d swallowed a boulder.

“Your name’s Violet, is that right?” he asked with amusement in his voice.

I didn’t say anything. I was too afraid to speak.

“Answer me!” he snarled, pressing the knife harder into my stomach and breaking the skin.

“Yes, yes it is.” My voice cracked with fear.

“We’ve been searching for you for a long time. To think of all the trouble we’ve gone through and you don’t even have any power,” he seethed.

“Power?” I could barely whisper. What did he mean I had no power?

“You mean, you don’t know about the prophecy?” He laughed a sickly, throaty kind of laugh, the kind that made your skin crawl.

“No, you must have the wrong person.”

“How dare you question His judgment!” he exclaimed and pushed me to the ground.

The pavement was wet and cold. I struggled to straighten my legs and run away before he could grab me again but I wasn’t fast enough. He flipped me on my back and straddled me so I couldn’t move. My arms dug into the asphalt behind me and I felt the gravel tearing into my skin.

“Someone, help!” I screamed as loud as I could. I had parked my car a good distance from everyone else, a polite thing for a vendor to do at a wedding, but it meant my efforts to get someone’s attention were useless.

He hit me square across the face and then wrapped his fingers around my neck. I could barely breathe. My face stung from his blow and tears streamed down my face as I gasped for air.

“Why?” I rasped.

“Because, you’re the only one who can wake The Lady and we can’t have that, now can we?” he said as he slid the knife down my chest and pressed it against my abdomen again. “It’s a shame, really, to have to waste something so beautiful.” He brushed his thumb up and down my throat.

Prophecy? Wake the Lady? What was he talking about? The guy was certifiably nuts. This all had to be a mistake, some kind of misunderstanding. I tried to wiggle free from his grasp but it only seemed to entice him more. He slid his hand from my throat down to my right breast. The moment he released my neck I let out a blood-curling scream.

“You, stupid bitch!” he fumed. “Fine, have it your way.” He shoved the knife into me, pushing and twisting as far as he could manage.

Air erupted out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I only felt my blood bubbling out of the wound in my stomach. Everything went into slow motion, the blade twisting inside me and my blood pouring onto the pavement. This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be real.

“Goodbye, Violet,” my attacker laughed. I felt his body shift above me as he plunged the knife into my chest. A flash of blue light filled my vision as pain exploded throughout my entire body. I felt the weight of my attacker lift off of me and I knew I was alone.

I rolled over onto my side and laid there in the middle of the street. Blood rushed from my wounds like I’d been keeping it prisoner. It soaked through my clothes and pooled beneath me. I struggled to get my hands free but it was no use, the rope was too tight. Every little movement sent a jolt of pain through my body, paralyzing me. There was nothing I could do, I was losing too much blood too fast and had no way of putting pressure on the wounds.

My body felt heavy. It grew harder to thrash around, to move at all. I opened my mouth to scream again but no sound came from my blood-soaked lips. My eyelids fluttered closed and the world disappeared around me as I took the last few breaths of my life
.

This is it.

I felt a hand pressed firmly against my abdomen. Someone was trying to stop the bleeding but I knew it was a futile effort. Even as my thoughts faded and darkness closed in, I heard a familiar, far-off voice calling my name. I could no longer feel the pain of my wound and knew it wouldn’t be much longer. It was strange knowing I was on death’s door and not afraid. Instead I felt at peace. I thought of my parents’ deaths and wondered if they felt the same comfort I felt now.

“Violet!” I heard someone call my name again. But I didn’t want to try and answer anymore.

“Violet, can you hear me?” the voice asked, starting to panic. I fought my heavy eyelids if only to soothe him and tell him it was okay to let me go. But when my eyes finally opened and I saw the person hovering over me, I didn’t want to go anymore.

I fought against the inevitability of my death like a shipwrecked sailor battling the waves, resisting the blackness that held onto me. But death felt like such a peaceful place, like being swaddled in a blanket.

“Violet!” he yelled again. There was an edge of anger behind the panic.

Forcing myself to look at him, I caught a clear glimpse of his face. His brow furrowed with worry and he clenched his jaw in determination. I fought the dark waters pulling me down and gasped to remain conscious.

He was so beautiful.

Realizing my hands were no longer tied around my back, I tried to lift my hand to his face and soothe the worry from his brow. It would be nice, I thought, to feel the touch of another human being, one last time, but I couldn’t find the strength to move.

“Violet, I need you to look at me so I can connect.” His voice was severe as I groaned and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

“Look at me!” he demanded.

Startled back to attention, I looked up at him with the last bit of strength I had and held onto the image of his mahogany eyes. I tried to say his name, to ask him what he was doing here, but no sound passed my blood-drenched lips.

“It’s going to be okay, I just need you to stay fixed on my eyes. Please, Violet.” He swallowed hard, but his voice held a determined edge. I didn’t know how he thought he was going to save me. I didn’t have much time left but something in his velvet voice kept the darkness at bay and lightened the weight drowning my soul. He held my gaze with an intensity that made me think he could see right into my soul and as we stared at each other I noticed a small fleck in his right eye that was a shade darker than the rest of his iris.

Suddenly, I felt warmth spread through my body. It started where he touched my stomach and slowly moved to my chest and extremities. The warmth of his eyes burned into me and coursed through my body the way lava flowed down a hillside, slow and merciless. He gritted his teeth, squinted his eyes in focus and strained every muscle in his body as he looked down at me.

How was he doing this
? I thought. The warmth spread all over me and I could feel it pulling me to the surface, out of the darkness. The tingling heat wrapped around each blood vessel, engulfing every inch of my body and brought me back from the brink of death. His hand moved away from my stomach and the warmth instantly left my body.

Then I felt it. The cool breeze on my skin, the sticky smell of the ocean air. There was no darkness, no warmth and no pain.

“You’re alright now,” he said, panting like he’d swam a mile.

“Robert?” I said, sitting up and searching for his face. I thought it would hurt to move but I didn’t feel anything. I ran my hands along my stomach where the knife had gone in but found no wound, just two small scars that hadn’t been there before. I was still covered in my blood and my shirt was torn to shreds. I turned my wrists over and saw the marks the rope had left. I felt the small lump on the side of my head where it had met the trunk, but this seemed to be the worst of my injuries. How was I still alive?

Robert sat on the pavement to the left of me, his knees bent with both arms folded over his legs and his head down looking away from me.

“Robert, what happened? How am I alive?” I asked, wiping the dried blood from my lips.

“You’re fine now, that’s all that matters,” he said, eyes still facing the pavement.

“But that man stabbed me. What did you do?” My voice was barely a whisper. “I felt you touching my stomach and then I was warm all over. I thought I was dying and then …” I didn’t know how to continue. I felt exposed and foolish for saying these ludicrous questions out loud. I mean, how could I be dying one minute and fine the next?

“Violet, I…” He finally turned and looked at me with those piercing brown eyes. They didn’t hold the same warmth they had a minute ago.

I moved closer to him and saw that his hands were covered in my blood. My stomach did a perfect double tuck off the imaginary balance beam in my abdomen as I watched my blood drip off his fingers and onto the pavement. Against my better judgment, I moved closer, wanting to feel that warm comfort again.

“How did you… what did you… I mean, I’m okay now,” I said, placing a hand on my woundless stomach and looking up at him. Robert showed no emotion, his face stern and cold. I could tell he was trying very hard to hide something from me.

“Please, just tell me,” I pleaded.

He sighed. “It’s not that simple. All that matters is you’re okay.”

“Robert, please. I just want to understand.”

He got to his feet and reached down to help me up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him take a quick glance at my bare stomach, but his face remained hard and expressionless when his eyes finally met mine.

“We should get you changed. You don’t happen to have any extra clothes in your car, do you?” he asked.

“Err… no,” I replied, looking down at my tattered, bloody shirt and blood-stained slacks. At least my pants were black so it was hard to tell they looked like a costume piece for some slasher movie.

“Alright, I think Brett’s about your size. We can get some clothes from her.”

“The bridesmaid?”

“Yeah, she’s my sister, now come with me,” he instructed, pulling me by the arm back toward the house.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what just happened!” I yelled and yanked my arm free from his grasp.

I crossed my arms and stared at him with as much authority as I could muster. He turned around to look at me and I almost fell to the ground. The heat I longed for radiated off of him and I had to lock my knees to stay upright. He took two steps toward me and closed the gap between us. His eyes never left mine as he reached up and put his hand on my arm. His hand felt warm and soon that warmth spread to my fingers. My arm relaxed.

“Violet,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “We need to get you inside. Please just trust me and we can talk once you get changed.”

I looked over my shoulder at the pavement stained with my blood, then turned back to him. I nodded in submission and he slid his hand down my arm to my elbow. He never loosened his grip as he led me back to the house.

As we walked up the path I thought I heard him mumbling something. I was about to ask what he was saying when he suddenly turned to the left, leading us around the side of the house and away from the still in-progress reception.

“Where are we going?” I asked, looking over my shoulder toward the front of the house.

He didn’t answer. Instead he stopped and reached into the thick, ivy-covered ground and opened a door, revealing several stone steps. He nudged me through the door, down the stairs and the door slammed shut behind us. He followed behind me with his hand on my lower back, guiding the way. I could feel the warmth of his hand and tried not to focus on the way his touch made me anxious with anticipation. As I walked through the hall I felt like I had walked back in time.

The corridor in front of me looked like it was a hundred years old. Plain, dark sconces spaced about ten feet apart on the walls lit the way. The corridor was about five feet wide and a foot or two taller than me. The floor was concrete and the walls were made of some sort of crude-looking stone. Our footsteps echoed against the walls and my heavy breathing filled my ears as we continued briskly through the passageway.

“Where are we?” I whispered, my eyes wide as I swallowed back the dread my surroundings conjured.

“This corridor leads to the basement and up into the house,” Robert answered.

“Why do you need an underground corridor to get in and out of the house?” I frowned. First I’m miraculously healed and now I’m in an underground tunnel that’s probably hundreds of years old. What was going on?

“Well we can’t have you traipsing around a wedding with the bloody mess you are.” He shook his head at my disheveled appearance.

We rounded the corner and after about ten feet reached stone steps leading up to a door. We walked up the steps and through the door into a dark basement. The room was huge, from what I could see of it. There wasn’t much light in there compared to the corridor we’d just come from. The floor still looked concrete but the walls were no longer made of the crude stones that lined the corridor. The pillars holding up the house were massive and must have been at least ten, maybe fifteen feet tall.

Robert led me toward the stairs against the wall in front of us. As we walked by one of the pillars I let my hand graze its smooth, wooden surface. We walked up the stairs and through another door leading into the back of the house. I could hear the music of the reception again and it brought me back to reality. It still surprised me how beautifully the house was furnished and how light and open everything seemed, despite the dark color palette running through the house. Everything was very modern looking and it was obvious the Maxwell’s spared no expense.

“I still can’t get over how beautiful everything is,” I said, looking around the house.

“It’s over the top,” Robert noted as he rushed me up the main staircase.

“Your house really is amazing.”

“It’s not my house.”

“That’s right, you don’t live here normally. Why is that?”

He sighed. “Can we just get you changed before we play twenty questions?”

“Fine.”

At the top of the staircase we turned to the right and he led me down the hall toward the bridal suite. The floor was carpeted up here, unlike downstairs. Family pictures hung all along the walls but one photo caught my eye. It was a black and white of a young boy standing on a cliff and looking out over the water. The setting sun made the water glisten, giving the picture a sort of magical quality. I paused at the picture for just a moment before Robert guided me down the hall and through a door on the left side.

“I was eight in that picture,” he whispered into my ear, noticing my interest.

I blushed slightly at the feel of his breath on my neck and opened my mouth to answer him, when I noticed there was someone else in the room, someone I recognized from the bridal party.

“What happened?” she asked, not looking at me. The tone of her voice was calm but her bright blue eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at Robert.

He moved from behind me toward her and they walked over to the window at the far end of the room.

“I had to save her,” he said under his breath.

“You used your powers on her?” she asked with an ambivalent tone.

“Brett, she’s The Waker.”

“It’s her? You’re sure?” Her expression suddenly changed from annoyance to curiosity as she shot me a quick glance.

Their voices became almost inaudible whispers as they tried to conceal their conversation. I moved closer as quietly as possible, trying not to draw any attention to myself.

“Think about it, the prophecy said her name would be Violet and look at her necklace.”

Brett looked in my direction, “her bloodline,” she gasped.

“You think it’s a coincidence she got involved with our family?” Robert gave his sister a meaningful look.

“You know I don’t believe in coincidences. But we have to be sure before we move forward with this,” Brett replied.

“It’s her. I could feel it when I saved her, she’s the one.”

I was trying so hard to hear what they were saying that I didn’t pay attention to where I was walking and bumped into the armoire. The dull
thump
of my body running into solid wood drew their attention back to me.

Brett uttered something to Robert in a language I didn’t understand and then walked toward me. “Let me get you something to wear so you can get out of those clothes,” she said, motioning with her hand for me to follow. Robert didn’t move from the window and kept his gaze on the floor.

“Robert, why don’t you leave us be, so that she can change?” Brett suggested.

“Right, I’ll go talk to the rest of the family and make sure we don’t have any other visitors,” he said, walking across the room and carefully keeping his eyes averted from me.

“Please be discreet. There is a wedding going on downstairs,” she called after him as Robert closed the door behind him.

“I’m Brett by the way,” she said, extending her hand.